The Truth of It All
by cantlivewithnolaughgal
Summary: Three-shot drabble series. Neal Caffrey is not at all who he has cracked up to be. In his moment of weakness, he admits his darkest, most coveted secret, and for once, he is not ashamed of himself or what he has done. Borderline AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, all. This is a short drabble I wrote on a rainy day. Hope you enjoy it and please leave a comment!**

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><p>Neal Caffrey never intended to be a criminal. He never once thought that he would generate his income by stealing money from those who rightfully earned it. Neal Caffrey wasn't just an everyday crook; Neal Caffrey was better than that. He had <em>values<em>.

In fact, there was a time that he had so desperately yearned to be one enforcing laws, putting away the bad guys, wearing a badge…

Nevertheless, Neal had always wanted one goal. Neal Caffrey had wanted to make a difference. So a difference Neal Caffrey had made. But now, as he looks into the mirror, his eyes are opened to the man he truly is. He is no Neal Caffrey. Heck, he isn't one-fourth of the man Neal Caffrey was.

Neal Caffrey was a complete and utter illusion, and a good one at that. He had fooled everyone—even himself for the most part—that the man actually existed. For the reality was that Neal Caffrey was the largest and most important con that he had ever pulled, not to mention it was perhaps the only legal one.

But Peter could never know, no, even a single whisper of this. The consequences were too high and far too dangerous. For now, he was content with watching from afar, watching the life of someone who he could never really be honest with. Peter Burke would never realize this secret, and that is why it was kept.

For the first time in a long time, he gazed into the mirror and did not see Neal Caffrey. Instead, he saw his true colors, his real inner self. He looked in the mirror and saw who he was: Nathan Burke.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it!<strong>

**~Allysa (cantlivewithnolaughgal)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I never thought that I would ever add on to this. But shout out to MarnieWest who reminded me that, in fact, this was still hiding in a dark corner in the black hole of White Collar ff. I'm not sure I'll ever add on after this, but I'm thinking it'll be maybe a three-shot drabble series... **

**It's now pretty AU, considering I conceived this idea during season 3, when Neal was a mystery.**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Neal never understood. Even as an adult, the idea seemed so preposterous, so absolutely absurd, that he couldn't even fathom it. How can one parent favor one child over the other? Truly, Neal lacked the capability to comprehend why his parents didn't want him. It wasn't a surprise that he had issues, because, well, he had issues, but he didn't think they were worthy of leaving him behind in the dust. As a child in foster care at the age of eight, he threw away hours upon hours enraptured with the thought that his parents didn't care enough for him.

When he turned nine, he gained a family again. Truth be told, it wasn't his family, but it was family all the same. After a year of hopelessness and self-degradation, he found himself welcomed into the house with open arms. The family loved him, even with all of his many faults. His new dad became his superman, with his shiny badge and blue uniform. The man never failed to have the scent of sawdust and gunpowder on his skin and clothes, but he taught Neal how to shave, how to attract all the women he wanted, and even attempted to teach Neal how to throw and catch (but never truly succeeded. Neal was always more of a sprinter than anything else). Neal finally sensed that he might actually belong when the he glimpsed the signatures of the two adopted parents on papers of adoption.

Then he gained another year and totaled at eleven. His biological mother swam through the channels of the United States legal system to locate him just one more time. The truth that Neal craved so badly spilled out. His mother abandoned him because Neal wasn't her husband's biological son. She struggled to hide that from her husband but to no avail because he found out and ordered either her or Neal to leave. (She always was selfish.) So Neal finally had the answers he wanted, but then he really didn't. When she disappeared through the cracks again, his mind swirled with unasked questions, like who actually was his biological father then?

It didn't matter, though, at the time, because he had his perfect family until age fifteen, when he didn't. That's when Neal became Neal, not whatever he was before that. It's when the man he though infallible proved treacherous, when his adopted mother and Neal desperately disappeared with the help of the US Marshalls. Neal could pinpoint the moment he realized that humanity was cruel and that Neal was never going to be anything better than a screw up. (He messed up everyone's life).

Then the age eighteen rolled around. Neal was living in a shabby apartment in New York City with a friend, attending the first and last semester at college. In reality, Neal failed to fit in at college; it wasn't that he couldn't fit in, but rather he refused to make the effort to conform. College didn't suit him well. Surprise knocked on his door at eleven a.m. on a Wednesday morning in the form of a tall, brunette male that appeared to absorb him like no one ever had before.

His name, he told Neal, was Thomas Burke. Eighteen years ago, he had met a woman in a bar after having a little too much to drink after his first divorce. They had woken up in bed together at the conclusion of the night, and he hadn't thought anything of it for years. For Heaven's sake, he proclaimed, he'd remarried his first wife after a couple months. But then, out of the blue, he stumbled upon the woman, drug ridden and wasting away her life, and the bubble of his life popped. He had another son, and she had handed him a picture of a boy around eight, saying that he had been taken away from her. Thomas Burke never thought he would find his son, until he caught a glimpse on Broad Street and had followed him here.

Neal spent hours with his biological father that day, listening to the man who had never truly existed until now. But it was too late and he was too jaded, for the life of crime had already set in. Surprisingly, though, Neal kept in contact with his father, always checking in and talking every once in a while. Thomas was the only person who seemed to never judge Neal for his misgivings, especially when Neal was in jail.

Imagine Neal's immediate thoughts after realizing the FBI assigned a man named Peter Burke to his case. Maybe Peter didn't deserve as much credit for catching Neal as he received. Maybe Neal wanted him to catch him all along but couldn't make it look that easy. So Neal now sits on the couch of his secret half-brother's house when the doorbell suddenly chimes, and the door opens to reveal Thomas.

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><p><strong>Alright, cool. That's it. That's all I have. So, if you want to leave a comment or give some advice, I'd love either! You can PM me too because I love meeting new people! Thanks friends! If you are interested in cowriting something, hit me up too! I'm basically in every fandom ever, so whatever you got in the making, I'm interested!<strong>

**By the by, chapter 1 might be getting spruced up after years of negligence. **

**-cantlivewithnolaughgal**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, all! So this is the final installation of this three-shot. I've been thinking about doing a three-shot of Peter's side, but I haven't made any plans yet. After all, it took me a year or so to finish this one... Enjoy! It gets a bit cheesy, fair warning. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar.**

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><p>"<em>Sometimes your personal and professional lives just crash into each other without any notice." -Neal<em>

_Well_, thought Neal. _This ought to be interesting. _He had foolishly assumed that these two worlds, these two identities, that he shielded from each other could be kept apart. Neal knew that it wouldn't be fair for Peter to feel obligated to take a newfound interest in Neal's life, especially since Peter could never possibly want to find out that he had put his half-brother behind bars. No, Peter didn't need the pain and guilt that would inevitably accompany such a discovery.

So what was to happen? Neal's mind fluttered at an insurmountable rate between possible scenarios, scaling from decent to horrific. It was Neal's fault, he supposed, for never telling Thomas that Peter was his handler at the FBI and the sole reason Neal ever stepped foot in jail in the first place. Neal had an excellent excuse, though: no child wanted to rat out their older brother for serious things like, in Neal's case, jail time. Prison Neal aptly blamed on the similar DNA between Peter and himself; such similarities would have given Peter an unfair advantage over other agents because with their shared blood, their brains on some level had to work relatedly.

Thomas just smiled pleasantly, albeit a bit confusedly, when he entered the living room of his son through marriage. "Peter, I was in the area and thought I'd stop by. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about…," the man stated, pointedly glancing at Neal. Neal shook his head to disaffirm the subtle question. "I think it's best if I get this out right now, for all of our sakes."

"Dad," Peter started. "This is Neal Caffery, my consultant at the FBI. Neal, this is my father, Thomas Burke. Neal, could you give us a minute? I think Satchmo could enjoy a walk around the block."

Thomas shook his head in a similar manner to Neal's. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. How are you, Neal? I feel as though I haven't seen you in quite some time, my boy. Still not caught up in that atrocious woman, Kate, are you?" Peter flickered his eyes between the two individuals and openly gaped at the relationship.

"I'm doing alright. Kate's gone, I think. I'm glad our relationship had your overwhelming support, Thomas. Anyways, I'm much too busy for any woman right now, but I can't really complain. Peter's a slave driver to work for, but considering my other options, I could have ended up in a much worse position."

"I'd imagine almost anything is better than a prison cell in this day and age. Peter, do stop opening your mouth like a fish. I didn't raise you to blubber cluelessly like that."

"You two…," Peter struggled. "You… _know_ each other?" He paced the length of the couch to the kitchen, never taking his eyes off the two guests in his home. "What? _How_? Neal, you know my father and you've never even told me? And Dad, you never thought to mention that you're acquainted with my CI? Have you two been teaming up on me and I've just been unaware of it? This whole time…"

"Actually Peter, I've known Neal long before he ever crossed your desk, I'd assume." Thomas then sauntered from his earlier place at the door to sit comfortably next to Neal on the couch, leaning down to scratch Satchmo on the back. He threw a calming and familiar smile to his illegitimate son, sensing the man's displeasure with the whole situation.

Neal, in turn, smiled disarmingly at the fuming figure Peter had transformed into and relied on his talents, practically oozing with charm. "Believe it or not, Peter, I learned a lot about you from your father before I even, allegedly, pulled off a few heists. It was only after a couple weeks of your incessant chasing that I connected the dots between Thomas and yourself. I don't know how I didn't realize sooner: you two are nearly physical carbon copies of each other." That part was painfully true and was one of the reasons Neal had initially doubted his father's claims. Neal looked about as similar to his father as a cat does to a dolphin.

Peter and Thomas both had the same shade of dirty brown, the same larger, muscular build, and both often stood with their hands on their hips (Neal liked to think it was genetic, not because of anything _he_ ever did). Their brown eyes matched the other's so exactly that they could have been the eyes of identical twins, and their mouths curved in the exact same smile. Without a doubt, these two men were father and son.

Neal lacked these similarities with obviousness: his hair had been and would always be a mess of jet black curls, his body was slim and slightly feminine even though he's definitely worked hard for those abs hiding beneath his shirt, and frankly, the thought of ever putting his hands on his hips sends his entire frame into a shudder. His crystal blue eyes failed in epic proportions of the paternal shade of brown, and his smile nearly always replicated the smirk he learned that best irritated the U.S. Marshalls when he was in protective custody. So, no, Neal really didn't feel that by features, these three men were related, but after spending hours separately with these two, Neal realized that their actions and trains of thought were at sometimes so eerily similar that there was no doubt.

Thomas drew Neal's attention back to the conversation that had Neal uncomfortably sweating through his very expensive suit that June had given him as a birthday present. "This wasn't accidental, Peter. I searched for Neal so I could meet him."

"You searched for him? Why on earth would you randomly search for some man roughly thirty younger than you?" Peter questioned, unable to accept that his father had seemingly scavenged for and located his CI. "What interested you, a banker, so much about Neal that you needed to find him?"

Neal sunk into the cushions, wishing to escape from this conversation and from this room. While Thomas calmly faced the confused, somewhat hurt, and angry Peter, Neal couldn't bear to meet his brother's powerful gaze. This situation felt way too surreal for Neal; he remembered countless hours as a kid and as a teenager swept in the sorrows of being an orphan abandoned by his family and how much it hurt. Somewhere along the way he had steeled his heart to the concept of family, and even though here and there he realized his family did exist and wasn't entirely against him, his heart had never melted the protective barriers between inner Neal and his family.

"I looked for Neal, son," Thomas said calmly. "Do you remember that conversation we had before you left for college?" Peter glanced at his father in horror, the memory rushing back to him as his mind connected the details.

Peter recalled the memory as the first time his father had ever allowed him to drink alcohol. Thomas had stood, staring at the scenic view from the back porch of the house Peter grew up in, and had handed Peter a beer, simply saying that Peter would need it. Then Thomas spun a complicated story that somehow ended up with Peter having a little half-brother who had gotten lost in the system and that Peter would probably never know his brother. Peter had been appalled that his parents had hidden the reason behind their multitude of fights for years, but as surprised as he was, he had hoped desperately that one day he would meet his brother and set things right. The conversation had concluded when Thomas mentioned that he hoped to find his lost son, and the two had drifted into a silence that lasted a couple months.

Years later, Peter couldn't begin to describe the emotions he felt. "You… You mean to tell me that _Neal_ is my brother? I… _What?_"

"Yes, Peter. I found him purely by accident, but I thank my lucky stars everyday that I did find him. He's a good man, Peter. He's just made a couple bad decisions."

Peter turned to Neal, aghast as he realized what he had done. "I put you in prison! I locked up my own brother! Dear God, why couldn't I have just forgotten about you?"

"Peter, it's fine. No, seriously. It's not like you could have known anyways. I didn't even put it together until _after_ you'd locked me up. Plus, I'm not holding that against you."

Thomas observed his two sons as they communicated with their eyes. He noticed that it was time for him to bow out gracefully and to let his sons work out all that they needed to. His heart warmed as he watched his two boys together, interacting, and witnessed the bond that would forever tie them together.

Peter and Neal failed to notice the elder sneakily exit the room and walk out to the back porch.

"My brother, huh?" Peter commented as he collapsed into a chair at the table. Neal smiled gently, afraid of Peter's reaction. "Well, you do give me anxiety like only a little brother could."

"So... you're okay with this? You're not going to freak out?" Neal asked.

Peter raised his head from its previous spot between his two hands. "Neal…," he muttered, softly shaking his head from side to side. "I'm almost positive you already were my little brother, in some form or another. Now you're also my brother in blood."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah, Neal. I mean that."

"Brothers?"

"Brothers."

The front door opened right as the two newly-realized brothers reached out for a handshake-turned-_oh-my-god-are-they-hugging?_-manly embrace. The elder brother's wife judged the scene with amusement and some confusion. Neal caught her eye and sprung apart from Peter.

"Don't jump to conclusions!" He stated, his face blushing. Peter turned to his wife, a contented smile on his face. Elizabeth glanced between the two of them and shook her head.

"Too late, already jumped."

The three just smiled at each other before sitting down to have a talk about the events that had transpired and how the world had shifted.

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><p><strong>The ending quotations are actual quotes from WC. They're not mine.<strong>

**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know if there's anything I can do! Also, please let me know of any errors. I wrote this pretty quickly and am too lazy to check over it.**


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